Again his eyes widened.
“Tsk, tsk.” I touched his cheek. “Before you go, there’s something I’ve been waiting to tell you. You know how you enjoy watching? Nod, motherfucker.”
Stewart’s head bobbed as much as it could with the restrictions of the intubation tube.
“Well, I have a secret. I’ve enjoyed watching too.”
Question clouded his blue stare.
“You see, the doctors were obviously perplexed by your rapid onset of leukemia. I mean, look at you. Oh, don’t look now. Now you look like shit. You smell like shit too, but there was a time, a time you were quite fit and handsome, rather cocky too. Ha!” I laughed. “Cocky sure couldn’t describe what you have left. Now,” I patted his arm. “Don’t let me digress. I don’t want you entering hell without truly understanding who put you on the fucking express.” I leaned even closer. “I did! Now, as you enter the gates with the fire and brimstone, know that the hell you put me through for the last fucking nine years was nothing compared to the eternity you’ll suffer for what you did. Watching you rot away here on earth was satisfying for me.” I sat up. “Yes, you’re right: watching has been incredibly rewarding. I’m fucking getting wet thinking about it. Over the last year and a half, I’ve been able to sit back and watch you deny, get mad, spend a fucking fortune to make it go away, sulk, and now… with only hours left… maybe accept your fate.”
I stopped and smoothed the material of my dress over my legs. Looking back to his glare, I went on, “I realize this is a lot for your chemo-brain to comprehend, so nod if you understand me.”
Stewart’s head moved from side to side.
I cocked my head. “What? Am I too young? Am I too dumb? I mean, you didn’t want me going to college. However, I’m not fucking stupid. I made a way, provided the perfect source. Did you know that radiation causes cancer?”
Stewart blinked.
“Yes, there are all sorts of documented cases of cancer from radiation. Well, it doesn’t take a fucking nuclear-plant meltdown to cause radiation exposure. No.” I couldn’t stop the grin as my cheeks rose. “Cesium pellets can emit enough radiation to kill cancerous tumors. But…” I lowered my voice as the excitement at my long-awaited confession rambled forth. “…but that’s when the cesium pellets are placed within the cancerous tumors. Do you know what happens when healthy cells are exposed to excessive amounts of localized radiation? Do you?”
Stewart blinked again.
“Those healthy cells mutate. That means they change. It was a gamble. I had no way of knowing how they would change. But from your first symptoms, the headaches and hair loss, I knew I was on to something.”
Stewart’s eyes closed.
“Oh, no, motherfucker. Do not die on me yet. I want you to know that even though I planted the fucking pellets, it was your kinky-assed shit that did you in. Guess where you were exposed to these high doses of radiation.”
His head shook from side to side, with his eyes still closed.
“Open your fucking eyes. I want to see what you’re thinking. You will fucking understand what I’m about to say and then you will confirm your understanding with a nod. That’s the way we do things, isn’t it, Mr. Harrington?”
Slowly, his eyes opened and he nodded.
“That’s a good boy. The answer to my question was in your fucking chair at the warehouse. Every time you sat your ass in that chair and watched as you ruined my life for your entertainment, you exposed yourself to radiation.” I shrugged. “It didn’t take long for the symptoms to start, but I couldn’t take a chance on your body’s ability to fight it. So I continued the exposure.”
My smirk returned. “Every time you told me to spread my legs, do you know what I envisioned behind that blindfold? Oh, you can’t answer with that tube down your throat. Let me tell you. I envisioned this! I envisioned the look on your face when you finally learned what I’d done. And you want to know my reward? I’m a great wife. I stood by you through all of this. I’m a fucking saint! Driving into the damn ocean would have been too easy for you, besides… I wouldn’t have been able to watch. Now, Mr. Harrington, nod if you understand that the day you fucking bought me to be your whore was the first day of the end of your life.”
Stewart nodded.
“I do have that documentation, and by the way, your pain medicine is going up. You will never speak again, not of this, not of anything. Consider it our do-not-disclose clause; however, instead of paying you off, I’m the one reaping the benefits. One more thing, Mr. Harrington, that new draft of your will—effective immediately, I’m having you declared incompetent. You will not be signing anything new. My fucking contract is complete, but yours with the devil has just begun.”
The beeps from his monitor sped up as I sat back and watched the confusion in his eyes morph into realization. When I heard the door behind me open, I leaned in and brushed my lips against his cheek. “The only thing better would have been hearing you beg,” I whispered into his ear. “Because I’m confident that the great Mr. Harrington would beg for his fucking life.”
My shoulders shuddered as I lay my head on his shoulder and willed the tears to flow. The warmth of a hand touched my shoulder.
“Mrs. Harrington, we have the medical power of attorney. Do you want us to increase his medication?”
“Y-Yes, anything to help him,” I managed through my sobs.
“With the possible strain on his heart, this could cause…”
I looked toward Stewart’s cardiologist who was standing near Dr. Duggar. “If we don’t do this, can we save him?”
The cardiologist shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Then do it. Let’s make him as comfortable as possible.”
Missy, one of the regular nurses, spoke, “Mrs. Harrington, would you like me to contact a counselor?”
“No, I’m not leaving my husband’s side.”
Such a freaking great wife
. But both Stewart and I knew the truth: I wasn’t great. I was death. And, I wasn’t taking the chance of allowing Travis, Parker, or anyone else to get near Stewart without my presence.
After the medication drip was added to his IV, I sat patiently, drying my tears. Stewart’s icy stare stayed fixed on mine, trying to communicate a million things he’d never said or ever realized. I watched but I didn’t try to listen; instead, I internally rejoiced in his glare of silence. I’d listened to too many of his words. With each minute, the blackness inside of me grew and illuminated my cold, dead heart. Though I’d been called death all of my life, it wasn’t until Stewart’s eyes closed for the final time that I’d truly done it, and I’d never felt more fucking alive. The organ within my chest beat with new vigor.
The tears that coated my cheeks were real. They were tears of joy and tears of cleansing. As time passed, each drop that slowly descended my cheeks washed away a memory. It would take a fucking ocean to erase them all, but this was a start.
My days as someone’s whore were over.
As news spread, so did the people in Stewart’s room. Stewart would never have wanted all of these people to see him in this state so I welcomed each one with open arms. Travis was the first to intrude, and then Parker. There were nurses and doctors, as well as Lisa and other members of the house staff. Val came to comfort me. Even Brody came. As a member of Stewart’s legal team, his presence wasn’t questioned.
In reality, they all entered to see my good work. Of course, none of them knew that. None of them knew that as the clock struck midnight, I was a black widow.
I HADN’T SLEPT, not really. By the time all was said and done and the coroner came and took Stewart’s body, it was after two in the morning. There was no need for an autopsy: his disease was well documented. It was just the formalities that needed to be finalized before he was shipped to the funeral home where he would be cremated. The great Stewart Harrington didn’t want to be seen in the condition he was in prior to death. He sure as hell didn’t want to be seen as he was after death.
Val and Lisa stayed near, helping me as questions came and went. I appeared distraught and overwhelmed. My makeup was gone, and my fine clothes were wrinkled. The bags under my eyes helped project the overwrought widow persona.
Though Parker wanted to discuss Stewart’s legal concerns, Lisa told him it would need to wait until the morning. With single-minded efficiency, she cleared the apartment of everyone who didn’t live there, directly after Stewart’s body was removed. She informed the medical staff that they could return the following day to retrieve their equipment; however,
Mrs. Harrington
needed calm. With an aching in my temples from my self-induced crying, I was eternally thankful for her command of the situation.
The only one who remained was Val. Her compassion and support overwhelmed me. Her good and caring heart had no way of knowing the darkness in mine. I wondered sometimes how I could keep it hidden, especially from her. I knew I had no choice. She could never know the lengths I’d suffered for her future. I didn’t want her to know. She only knew what the world knew: I married Stewart Harrington, world-renowned hotel mogul. She saw what they saw: the polished, refined younger woman paraded on his arm—arm candy, as my mother so eloquently described me—who became the steadfast anchor to a man stricken down by an unforgiving disease at too young of an age, and who spent hours working with the Harrington Society to take medical care where none could be found.
When we were alone, Val saw her sister: the woman who longed for the days back at the academy and the simplicity of life. However, never would she know the woman who had signed away her life, the one who was sold to pay a debt she didn’t owe. Just before Val left the penthouse apartment, we hugged, and I vowed to myself that no one—ever—would see that woman again. When Stewart’s body was placed into the incinerator and his flesh peeled from his bones, freedom would be found in the putrid smoke and I would be free.
It wasn’t until I was alone in the upstairs suite that I began to relax.
It was done.
He was gone.
Nine years of hell were over!
In my final act of cleansing, I stepped under the warm spray of the shower and washed away the stench of his decaying body. As I did, the memories of Peppermint Man came back, reminding me that I’d been with him less than fifteen hours ago.
Instead of crying, I laughed. For the first time in years, I laughed. Not just a giggle, my stomach ached at the rolling my emotional swing ensued. I would never endure the warehouse again. As the hot water rained down, I savored the purging fluid. I was Mrs. Victoria Fucking Harrington. I had a few more days to play the grieving wife. It is a new role, but I could do it: shaking hands, smiling sadly, even shedding a tear or two when necessary. After all, the acting wasn’t new. I’ve been doing it my whole life. Only now, the truth I kept buried, the one that ate at me day and night since I was old enough to remember, was a reality. Nevertheless, it was too painful to reveal, too upsetting for those around me. I needed to show them what they wanted, what they needed. They didn’t want to see who I truly was…
what
I truly was. They didn’t want to know that I’m a killer. But now that I’d done it, I knew without a doubt I could do it again.
The next morning, I awoke with a sense of calm. When I entered the kitchen, Lisa and Kristina, my personal assistant, were waiting. “Mrs. Harrington,” Lisa began. “As you know, Mr. Harrington had prearranged his funeral and cremation plans. If you’ll allow us, we’ll oversee everything and assure that it is all taken care of the way he requested.”
I reached out and squeezed Lisa’s hand. With eyes that brimmed with tears, I replied, “Thank you.”
Kristina said, “Mr. Craven’s assistant called. Mr. Craven would like to meet with you this morning. He suggested his office. I told him it wasn’t a good time. However, he was rather insistent. What would you like me to tell him?”
I knew what I wanted. I fucking wanted him on my turf, but I knew as a new widow, I should be less decisive. Therefore, I looked earnestly toward Lisa, the woman who’d been so kind to me, and said, “I-I don’t think I should be out.”
“Of course you shouldn’t. I was hoping you would say that.” Her neck stiffened. “I don’t understand why he thinks this needs to be handled now. Doesn’t he understand how distraught you are?”
I nodded toward Kristina. “I think that if he wants to speak to me, he can come here. But I’d prefer he wait until later.” Turning toward Lisa, I asked, “Where is Travis? I need to speak to him first.”
“He’s here. I’ll have him go to your office after you eat.”
I cocked my head to the side, my lips working to not smile. “Mr. Harrington’s office. I believe the important business of this household has always been conducted in the main office. Tell Travis to meet me in there in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lisa said, as she and Kristina exchanged looks.
“And let me know this afternoon the status on all of the arrangements.” My command was met with a round of
yes, ma’am
and Lisa’s reminder of my waiting breakfast.